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RPlog:Liza's Morning After
Privateer – Captain’s Quarters It's the morning after and Liza's sleeping her day of fun off, the pilot a crumpled mass of messy hair and wrinkled clothing, the girl snoring as she slumbers. It's a far cry from how she normally presents herself, the Sarian usually the sort to exhibit more self-control, but a day of drinking and debauchery left its toll and she's surely going to pay for it when she wakes up. Apparently already up and about, Juran has been at this lifestyle of drinking and debauchery than he can actually remember. His boots give gentle *thump* noises as they smack off the ground, and he has a large mug of caff in his hand, gulping it as he reads over the latest IGN news reports on his datapad. His Astromech Droid, amazingly well behaved.. Or well, it would be, if the Pirate hadn't shut him off and attached him to his charging port inside the Quarters, with a large 'Do Not Touch' sign swung over it. The Pirates armour has been moved, and currently is up on a stand. He sets down the mug of caff, and picks up his jar of cleanser and his rag, walking back over to the suit of armour as he gently begins to wipe and clean, polishing it up. "A pirate I was meant t'be.. Sailin' the galactic seas.." The song causes a soft moan to sound from Liza and her eyes slowly peek open...only to be closed tightly once the light stabs into her head, causing it to throb and her stomach to churn, some. She's not as hung over as she -should- be, perhaps a sign of her youth or something, but she doesn't know that as this is the first hang over she's ever had. "Shuddup.." she mutters in annoyance as she covers her ears, trying to drown out Juran's voice by doing so. "W-where am I?" She tries to look around and manages to do so, this time, although she wishes she didn't have to. The results of her inspection is the realization that she has no clue where she is and she feels a welling of panic start to churn in her already queasy stomach. "Freck!" A faint grunt escapes from the Captain as the woman starts to awaken, and he pushes himself up straight. Walking over, he takes the basin that was on the large table - he had prepared for the morning after syndrome - and sets it down under her head. "Yer on my ship, Liza. You drank a bit too much n' passed out, so a' put ya up here fort'night. Now, calm yersel' down. Eh? I don't wantcha throwin' up all over my carpet." The man crouches down infront of her. It is a good thing that Juran is prepared because Liza's stomach just can not handle the abuse its owner put it through and, with a lurch and a whimper, she finds herself face down in the basin and heaving, her body racked with the muscle spasms common to someone when they're losing the contents of their stomach. The nausea and such eventually passes and she curls up, facing Juran while he's crouched as he is. "Did..we..oh god..we didn't, did we?" She blanches some as she bites her lower lip, suddenly worried that something happened. Which it easily could have, considering everything. Juran's face takes a look of confusion for a moment, before he suddenly lets out a roar of laughter, shaking his head as he smiles down at the woman. "Yer stupid. No." For that, she gets a whap on the back of the head, to make her vomit a bit more as he pushes himself up onto his feet. "S'not my style t'get a woman totally arse-faced an' then 'av my way with her. So don't think yersel' so lucky." He smirks, whipping up his rag once again as he walks over to his armour, dipping it into the gel as he starts to casually work it into the pectoral plate. "There's some water onna table iffin' your wanting it. But ah'd wait a bit." The whap upside her head does indeed get her to be sick again, the girl turning over just in time to miss Juran's carpet and bedding. "Bastard.." Liza lays back down once she's able to and then nods, Juran's advice on waiting for the water duly taken. "Thanks..thank you for yesterday. It was fun." She won't admit it, but it's the first time she's really let loose like that and it was a good lesson for her, at the very least on top of relaxing. "And thank you for not taking advantage of me. I appreciate that." Letting out a snort, Juran quickly adds in, "Aye, ahmm'a bastard, don't you forget it." As he continues to wipe and rub the gel into the armour, causing its shine to grow a bit more. He then places the rag fully into his palm, rubbing it over the full of the chest plate as he spreads the rest of the gel around. "N'problem of mine t'drag someone out on a boozer." He lets out a roar of laughter again, before turning, looking somewhat serious. "Ahm' a Pirate, Squeak. Not a rapist. Get 'at inta yer head n' everythin'll be fine." "I didn't say you were a rapist. There's a difference between being a rapist and taking advantage of a situation when it's presented to someone." Liza smirks at that as she sits up a little, groaning as she does so. "Sithspit.." she sighs. "Wish you had kept me from getting drunk in the first place." A hand comes up and begins to massage at the back of her neck, her fingers kneading at the tense muscles there. A shoddy massage compared to the one Juran paid for yesterday, but a massage just the same. "But then y'couldn't enjoy the pleasures of the mornin' after! I couldn't deny ya that. Its all about livin' on Nar Shaddaa, Squeak." Juran occupies himself as he takes the helmet off the stand, sitting himself down as he begins rubbing the rag over the decals of the helmet, working off a bit of dirt and grime. "Right, now get some water down yer gullet, it'll stop yer brain from hurting so much, an' then ya can relax a bit." "Oh.." Liza gives up with the sitting and just curls up again, watching Juran as he works with his armor, ignoring the water for now. She's still a bit too queasy and is not looking forward to putting anything on her stomach when there's a possibility she might just throw it back up. "Well, thanks for the lesson. I won't be drinking like that again any time soon." Juran lets out a chuckle. "No problem fae me." He murmurs, lifting up his helmet. He stares into the blackened visor, tilting his head as he frowns, and takes the edge of his rag and carefully rubs out a smudge, then nods. He tilts the helmet and looks into the inside of it, double-checking it before he then sets it down onto the table. "It takes years of hard trainin' and abuse t'get to the level that you did and still be able to be standin' and walkin' around. I hope ya never learn, or you'll end up with more booze than blood!" "I doubt I'll be drinking again anytime soon..." Liza starts to say, her voice breaking slightly as she sits up the rest of the way. A wave of nausea hits as well as quite a bit of dizziness and she holds her stomach, looking like she might be ill again. It passes after a bit, however and she's eventually able to find her feet and get herself to where the glass of water is. It's picked up and sipped from gingerly, the cool liquid helping with her stomach as well as her head eventually; it is by no means a miracle cure as Liza still feels rough, but she doesn't feel quite as sick anymore. "So where did you sleep last night, Juran?" "Huh? Sleep?" Juran seems bemused, chuckling to himself as he swings the rag over his shoulder. He carefully picks up the helmet with his fingertips from the table, walking over to the standing suit of armour. He carefully places the helmet down onto it, then takes two steps back to admire it. His palms planted on his sides, he nods and then turns to look towards Liza. "I get a few hours every once in a bit, I dun' like sleepin' so much." Liza frowns a bit and looks upset at the prospect of having put Juran out some but she nods with a slight smile once she's able to once that feeling passes. "Alright. Well, I probably should head back. I can't stay away too much longer, sadly." Biting her lower lip, she approaches the pirate and gives him a hug and a kiss on his cheek to go along with it, the girl not caring if he protests over her doing so or not. "I really appreciate everything you did for me, Juran. The patching me up and letting me have fun here...if there's anything I can do for you please do not hesitate in letting me know, alright?" Juran does indeed, protest. "Gerrofaame! Squeak, ahm'a thump ya!" Then afterwards, he laughs and gives her a nod. He puts his hands on his hips, eyeing her for a few moments before reaching out and ruffling her hair. "Yer funny, lass. I'll be sure to look fer ya when you go up in t'ranks, see if I can worm a favour or two outta ya." He nods at her. He then cracks a grin and walks over to the comms, slamming his fist on it. "OI! GET US UP N' GOIN!" Then removes his palm from the comms. "'old onto somethin', wouldya?" He states, sliding his hands into his pockets. The Privateer is outfitted with much more powerful engines than would be standard, and a faint whine escapes, before the deep rumble as the ship starts to take off. "S'been a pleasure showin' ya around Nar Shaddaa, Liza." The young pilot holds onto something as directed, Liza not needing to fall and add a concussion to her hangover. "Don't call me Squeak.." she reminds him although the words lack anything like conviction, the reminder probably given just for the sake of being said. As the pirate's ship begins its departure, Liza can't help but to look around the captain's quarters, taking in the room fully for the first time. "I doubt I'll go up in the ranks too far, Juran. Not with my luck. So don't spend too much of your time watching, alright? Just be a waste of time." That's said with a shrug. A dark chuckle escapes from the Pirate's lips. "Listen t'me good n' well, woman. When I say y'll go up, ya better. Or I'll come thump ya upside the head." He wavers for a few moments as the ship finally takes off, and then slides his hands out of his pockets, rubbing his thighs with his palms. "'ere's a hint, don't dive at em', just slowly weave em' into target and let 'er rip.. And always keep yer shields charged." He murmurs, "I aughta tune up my Z-96's while we're spaceborne.." Liza wrinkles her nose a bit and then nods. "Want to go do that, then?" Liza eyes Juran and opens her mouth like she might speak but stops herself short from saying something, the room remaining silent while she looks at him. "What did I do to merit you having so much faith in me..?" The question's asked meakly, almost, Liza unable to really speak in a normal tone of voice now. It is almost as if a saddness has taken hold, suddenly. "Y'remind me of me." Juran states as he takes off his fancy coat, and tosses it onto the table as he begins to walk towards the doors. "Cept' you've got all the chances I 'av never 'ad. Wasn't born into a family, wasn't born into the Empire, wasn't born into any place where a' could be trained." He reaches the door, pressing his finger down to open the door infront of him. "Iffin' yer like anything like mysel', then you'll become more than y'are right now. After all, a' didn't even have a Da'. Now I'm the Captain of a Carrack-class Crusier, an Imperial Privateer and the owner o' one of the rarest types of Armour in this side of the slice. I couldn't even fly when a' was younger." He steps through the door, flicking his wrist to motion her to follow. "C'mon, Squeak." “Actually, I was adopted into the Empire when I was just shy of turning eight..but you wouldn't have known that." Liza smiles to Juran as she shrugs. "We lost our parents to a speeder accident and after trying to stay together as a family for a while our brother sent us to other families to live since we were struggling. The Molokai's...my adopted family..was on Caspar during its occupation and they decided to take me in.." Liza chuckles. "I do want to be more. But I am an alien, Juran. I am not sure if that'll be a hinderance or not." That gets her to think a minute, the girl never really having given that much thought prior till now. "But you have faith in me and so does the Marshal and the Wing Commander..so maybe I will." Juran pauses for a moment, turning his head to look towards the woman. He gives her a brief smile, "Ye'll do fine. Dun worry yersel'.. Ahn' if you ever get bored of the Empire, ya can join my crew! I won't even charge ya t'join." He roars with laughter, before stalking out of the room. His voice can still be heard, though, as loud as he is. "Ah grew up on Tattooine, I smell a' Tattooine, my skin is rough cause of it, but ah'll never go back t'that place unless I got to. It ain't home. This is home." He grunts, then idly pauses. "Ahn' when I say tune up.. Ah mean yer comin' out into space w'me to test em' out to make sure everythin's workin' right. Y'get me?" Liza blinks and then blanches slightly. "Alright." Shifting uncomfortably on her feet while she considers that, she finally nods and follows after Juran, muttering to herself as she does so. She's never really flown anything outside of TIEs and shuttles and she's really not looking forward to flying something she's not familiar with. "I'll do my best to put the ship through its paces." She smirks and shakes her head as she chuckles, her eyes lowering as she does so. "I doubt I would be a good crew member. If anything, I'll probably retire or something. Maybe become an officer's wife. Who can say?" Airlock Juran smirks as he reaches just before the extenal rack. He motions over towards the flight suits that hang up, before he reaches over to one and begins to yank and pull it on. Now that its fully on, he fixes a helmet onto his head as he turns to look towards Liza. "Put 'un on. Yer doin' an EVA to the Plunder. I'll take the Heist." Liza looks at the suit and then the airlock, her eyes going a bit wide as she realizes what Juran's saying. "You're stoned.." she snarls out while grabbing one of the flightsuits herself. It is easily put on as she has done this a million times before, or so it feels, and it takes her no time to be geared up and ready to go. She gives Juran a look before heading towards the airlock, her steps slow, hesitant. Juran cackles to himself. He simply bounds up towards his airlock, then slams a palm on the release. Pushing himself out with his feet, he grabs ahold of the railings and guides himself to his fighter, before he then taps the access codes into it and slides into the fighter. Suddenly, there is a little Droid being pushed into the Astromech Droid port. Its beeping, loudly, and chirping.. It doesn't really look happy, at all. Its Juran's Astromech, R2-TR35, as its locked into place, Juran fixes himself into place. "Aaah quitcher whinin'!" Liza sighs as she steps through the airlock and towards one of the fighters, muttering just as the droid does but she sucks it up better than the R2 unit of Juran's. She gets into the cockpit and straps herself into the seat after checking out the controls, getting somewhat familiarized with them before she secures herself to the seat. "Okay.." she says once the comms are turned on. "Tell me what you want me to do, old man." Space "Ah, yer all such whiners." Comes the crackle from the comms of the Pirate as he idly secures himself. He makes the ship do a few spins, before he then holds it there, slowly revolving it to face the Heist. "Just simple ship targettin', pilotin', making sure that everything is workin' as it should. Y'know?" "And kicking my tail, right?" Liza smirks a bit while she powers up the weapons and checks her shield settings one more time, her hand moving swiftly over the controls as she prepares to check everything out with Juran. "Just no wounding me, please. I am still nursing my pride." "Hah! Woudnin' ya. You'll laugh, ahm' not a very good pilot, Squeak!" The pirate responds, before he twists the ship around and brings it forwards, before he taps a few systems to bring the targeting systems up on diagnostic mode. He brings her ship into view and guns his engines, firing his Ion cannons at her ship. "Intae ye!" As Juran fires upon the ship Liza's piloting she guns the throttle forward and manages a barrel roll, her reflexes enabling her to steer the fighter out of the way in time with a tiny margin for error..but just a tiny one. "Nice of you to give me warning. And don't call me Squeak." The Plunder is steered away from the working end of the Heist and turned so that she's behind it, cackling as she does so. "This is for letting me get so damn drunk." The trigger on the control stick's pressed, the weapons firing upon Juran when she does. Giving a low grunt, R2-TR35 beeps loudly as the Plunder gets behind the Heist. "Ah bugger!" He shouts in response, one hit before the ship seems to go straight down. He yanks on the control-stick, having no formal training but relying on just pure guts. He brings it around, then swivels to try and get a bead on the Plunder. The Heist giving a few beeps as it gets a lock. "Aha, a' knew it, Squeak, me ol' buddy. The targettin' system is off by two seconds. 'at is, two seconds 'fore it registers. Ah'll have TR35 check the wiring to ensure that there isn't a delay inna system." He doesn't pull the trigger, instead making sure he keeps the lock as TR35 gets to work. "You know, I'm not sure what I'm doing..this usually isn't my job, you know?" Liza frowns as she slips in again, trying to get a fix on her target. She doesn't fire, yet as she tries to get a look at the console, eyeing the targeting computer's screen while she wriggles her ship in behind him. "This is....I am glad I fly them and don't try to fix them." A faint cackle escapes from the Pirate, "Fine. We'll do somethin' that ya might be usta.." With that, he yanks on the joystick and twists the ship around to face her, then guns the engines once more, sending the Heist into a dead-on kamakazie straight towards Liza. "Evasion, testin' how good t'ship is under stress. Iffin' you don't move I'mma plow right into ya.. I'm sure these suits 'av a good.. say.. couple minutes o' oxygen.." With a slight wince, Liza waits until the very last second before yanking the stick to the right, putting the fighter onto its side which keeps them from becoming scrap. "You're insane! Did you do that spice crap before you got into the cockpit?" She sighs while she looks at the sight of Juran's ship while it streaks past her going the other direction. The Heist is swung around before descending straight towards Liza's ship once more. "Nupe! Ahm' showin' ya how I fly, Squeak. None of yer Empire trained rubbish!" As he descends, he pulls on the trigger, sending a hail if ion bolts flitting through space as he pulls up and off again. "Hrm, slight delay b'tween trigger n' fire.. Get 'at corrected too.. Noticed anythin' yet, Squeak?" The next round of weapons fire is dodged by the narrowest of margins this time and Liza cusses under her breath while she adjusts her bearings, trying to get to where she can. "I..I guess this makes a pilot more adaptable. More able to be able to fly against pilots who fly differently.." she says to the pilot of the Heist. "I am not sure I like this lack of...structure in the cockpit, though. I feel..sloppy." "Haaaaahahahaha.. Y'll adjust. Iffin' you don't, ahm' gonna hit ya." Juran declares as he swings the Z-96 around. He's reckless, to say the least, pulling the ship around a few times, deliberately moving infront of Liza's front a few times to test the targetting systems. "How's the lock on' goin'? S'it quick enough or does it seem a lil slow?" Liza moves the stick side to side as Juran slides in front of her, her eyes locked to the control panel while she does so. "It seems alright, Juran." She smirks a moment as she checks the sensors, more for giggles than out of any need to, buzzing the Heist which then brings up a reading. "I adjust. That's what I do. It's what I've done since I was a girl and lost my parents." Simply said, it's clear that her words are nothing more than a statement and not a bid for pity from the pirate. "Good! Adjustin' is just fine. Rioght, seem's good? I 'adda spend hours with this stuff earlier on, drove m'up the wall." The pirate rambles on a bit, slowly floating the ship up infront of Liza's, sitting back as he crosses his arms over his chest, peering at her through the expanse of space. "Yer a good pilot, you'll go far, Squeak." "Thanks, Juran..." Liza sounds like she almost believes that, too. She looks out the canopy while she thinks a moment, watching the stars fly by while she follows the ship before her. "You know, I considered requesting a transfer. I felt I'd have better flying a shuttle than a fighter." She frowns as she reaches over with her free hand and rubs at her side as if it suddenly ached. "What do you think? You think I should forget being a fighter pilot and resign myself to a life of playing shuttle pilot to snot nosed politicians and recon teams?" "Dun be stupid, woman. That's retarded talk 'er. Y'dun wanna be a shuttle pilot t'the end of yer days. That'd be borin', and you'd probably still be shot down." Juran laughs at the thought of it, staring at Liza still, he tilts his head. "So no requisition, or I'll tell every'un in the Empire that yer new name is Squeak. Understand, Squeak?" "You'll tell them anyway, Juran but that's alright. I'll agree despite that." Liza chuckles as she reaches out and adjusts the shields, watching the readings change as she cycles through the different settings. "The shields appear to be just fine, Juran." She pauses and then asks, "Why Squeak? That's so...unpilot-like!" "Ach. Its pilot like, quitchabitchin." Juran reprimands the woman, barking out a laugh as he shifts the Z-96 around, starting to move it back to the external rack so that he can dock and enter back into the Privateer. "Right, ah'll do t'rest m'sel' later. Ah better get you 'ome." With a soft, almost disappointed sounding 'oh', Liza slips along Juran's ship and she looks out at the view before them. "Pretty out here, isn't it?" She smiles as she says that. She does like it out in space, much like her adopted father Liam did when he was able to fly. "Let's go.." "S'home.. Never did like Tattooine." Juran states calmly. He parks the Z-96 onto the rack with timed precision that has come from doing it many times, and can briefly be seen slowly floating back into the Privateer, slamming the airlock door behind him.